s t a r c r o s s e d
by currents
Summary: /"we're not the first," she says, and he believes her. -SamFreddie- for Mad. Post-iQ. Oneshot. Rated T for Teen. Enjoy!


this is for **Mad** {_chasingafterstarlight_} as a late **birthday present**.

**Happy Birthday, Maddy, love you!**

and also a **note**, this is_ mostly linear_, some of it may be a bit off, but that's a matter of opinion. ;)

i own nothing.

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><p>s t a r c r o s s e d<p>

/"we're not the first," she says, and he believes her.

...

Mutual.

He repeats the word so many times in his head it begins to lose its meaning. The tedium fills the empty feeling in his heart as the word reiterates again and again.

Mutual, he thinks. Don't make me laugh.

...

Their break up is mutual.

Sam and Freddie do not like each other and that is that.

{It turned out, that was not in fact that.}

...

Really, he's not bitter at all.

Sam was a phase, he'd get over her eventually, and then there'd be other girls, other relationships, and more normalcies. Eventually, at least. Eventually, when he stopped dreaming of her infectious laughter, the way she had looked at him the first time they kissed; her eyes soft and warm.

Eventually, everything would go back to normal, and Sam would look him in the eyes again and Carly would stop acting so damn awkward all the time.

He would eventually have his two best friends back, and he wouldn't be in love with either of them.

Freddie woke up at 2:34 AM, shaking away the fantasies of sweet lips and road trips full of laughter and her hand in his.

Freddie woke up and prayed to every god out there that eventually came very soon.

...

"We're not the first," she says one afternoon when they're alone in the iCarly studio.

Freddie looks up from his laptop to regard her over the bright screen.

"Not the first," he asks, his nose scrunching up in the way she claims to hate, but he always does when he's confused.

"Not the first to mistake hate for love and love for hate."

Carly walks in before he can reply and the air becomes tense again, because her smile is fake and so is her laugh. Everything feels broken and he's not sure how to fix it. He's not sure who to fix. Himself, his heart in pieces, Sam, her emotions scattered, or Carly, who's on the outside of the box she created.

He sits, staring at the screen so long trying to decide that finally Carly gives up pretending to practice for the next iCarly and retreats downstairs again.

"We're not the first," she says, and he believes her.

...

School begins to feel like a cage.

His mother pushes at him constantly now that he's a junior in high school. She just wants him to be happy, but he resents her for setting such high standards for him to fill. He doesn't want to be her Freddie and go to MIT and become an award-winning director.

He wants her, if he can't have her, he at least wants eventuality.

She watches, because she's always been very observant not that anybody knows that. She watches him retreat within himself, his grades slip along with his smile, and she doesn't watch with a heavy heart, because she's Sam Puckett. And Sam Puckett doesn't have a heart at all.

So maybe there's just this littletiny twinge of regret, but it's nothing, always been nothing, he'll get over her eventually, and things will get back to normal, and it'll just be them again.

Them, **Freddie**&**Sam**, the bickering sidekicks of iCarly.

{All they ever wanted was to be normal.}

...

Sometimes, when it's just them sitting side by side on the fire escape, long before she kissed him and he kissed her back during a school lock-in, he wasn't sure she was real. She'd been more of an ethereal entity, flitting in where and when she wants, her existences her own and hers alone.

They sat side by side and watched the Seattle night pass them by, the city life a nice life, full of bustling crowds and street thugs. He wondered sometimes about settling down in a suburb maybe, where everything's slow and hazy, and little kids with blonde hair and brown ey-

Yes, he thinks. Someday.

She'd been most beautiful to him then too, her hair tousled by the wind and her cheeks red against the cold breeze, and she was Sam, all Sam.

...

They're very tragic for two comedians, he thinks.

See, because everything about them is tense and not allowed. They live, they love, and most importantly, they **hate**, in secret.

They like to hide behind the curtains on a stage, before coming out and putting on a {fake} show. They're performers and performers have always been the best actors.

...

"I love you."

"I love you too."

...

She's got a perfectly rehearsed smile.

Carly smiles her special smile at all the right moment, nods at the right time, and her laugh sounds like it's full of life, but really, there's just a hint of forced happiness, just a tinge of regret, and really, she can't help but feel like the guilt is going to kill her.

It's all her fucking fault and it feels like everyone knows it.

They're mocking her, she's sure of it; they all know she screwed them up, her best friends. Are they her best friends? Why on earth would they want to be, be friends with her, Carly Shay, who can't hold a steady relationship of her own, but goes around breaking others?

She's going to end up a bitter crazy cat lady, she knows it.

...

"I hate you," she spits out one day when it all becomes too much and he finds her sobbing into a beanbag in the darkness-filled studio. She doesn't look so beautiful then, but oh his heart aches or her, to hold her. He wants her and if he can't have her, he at least wants eventually. But eventually is now.

"I hate you," she repeats again, standing up now. He flicks on the lights and there she is in all her ethereal glory and maybe she is beautiful even now with her mascara running down her face. He walks towards her and attaches his lips to hers.

"I hate you," she says as they break apart, but this time it's with a smile.

{"I hate you," she says. He doesn't believe her.}

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><p>please don't forget to review!<p>

always,

summer


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